


Cheek to Cheek

by JamesDeanPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, JD Salinger - Freeform, Lazy Mornings, all the coffee, ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong, sam dances with you, the bunker, the catcher in the rye is referenced, you sing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21558871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesDeanPrincess/pseuds/JamesDeanPrincess
Summary: You and Sam enjoy a quiet Sunday morning together in the bunker in between cases.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 39





	Cheek to Cheek

Sam was up early for a Sunday morning. Dean had always declared Sundays “the day of rest, Sammy. No bullshit, no alarms, just waffles. Love me some waffles.” But to Sam, a day of rest meant a quiet morning without Dean. He loved his brother, sure, but sometimes it was just nice to enjoy a pot of coffee, some of his own music, and a nice book without the many sounds of Dean’s chewing and singing and bellyaching about why is there fucking almond milk in the fridge? “Because I like it and it’s good for you, Dean” is always Sam’s answer.

So Sam woke up at 6:30, gave you a quick kiss on the cheek when you sleepily rolled over into his spot, and went out for a run along his usual route. An hour later he was showered and pouring himself the first cup of coffee from the little bag of French-pressed beans he had bought the week prior. He walked into the library after finishing his bowl of banana nut oatmeal, and sat down with his coffee in one of the leather chairs in front of the bookshelves, opening his book to the page he’d had marked since, well, last Sunday. 

He’d been working his way through some of the classics: Dickens, Steinbeck, Oscar Wilde. Today he was a few chapters from the end of a reread of J.D. Salinger’s  _ The Catcher in the Rye.  _ The last time he had read it was in college, he thought, and figured it was time to open it again. It was light enough reading, but still fairly thought provoking since the entire thing is basically metaphors strung throughout a coming of age story. That, and on the last movie night, Dean had picked  _ Field of Dreams _ , which is somewhat reminiscent of the author. 

So Sam decided the next book on his reading list for peaceful Sunday mornings would be  _ The Catcher in the Rye.  _

It was just after eight o’clock when he finished the novel, setting it down and opting to throw on a record while perusing some local news pages. He found one of his favorites on the shelf under the record player the Men of Letters had left behind in the bunker: a Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald duet album. He dropped the needle down in the first groove and opened his laptop, letting it fire up while he went to pour himself another cup of coffee. 

No sooner had he pulled up the first website than did you wander into the library, in search of Sam and coffee. “Hey,” he greeted you with a smile, looking up from his laptop. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmhm.” you said sleepily, pushing your bed hair out of your face and coming to stand behind him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned your head against his, breathing in his fresh-from-the-shower smell. “Looking for a case?” you asked.

“Yep. Just checking to see if anything weird’s popped up in the newsfeed lately. So far there’s nothing up our alley.” Sam said as he flipped from one web page to another. “There’s coffee in the kitchen, if you want some.”

“Oh good.” you said standing up, giving his arm a squeeze before walking to the kitchen. Sam watched you walk away, smiling at the rolled down pair of his old pajama pants you were wearing. 

Your hands were wrapped around the warm mug of fresh coffee, breathing in the smell as you made your way back to the table Sam was sitting at. You took another sip before setting the mug down, your ears catching the raspy tune coming from the record player. “Ooh, I love this song.” you said, taking Sam’s hand in yours. Louis’ chorus of  _ Cheek to Cheek  _ had just started, and Sam let you pull him to his feet, laughing at you and shaking his head.

“You know I can’t dance, right?” he smiled down at you, taking you in his arms anyway.

“Neither can I. Good thing we’re not auditioning for any of those stupid dance competition reality shows.” you winked at Sam as you swayed back and forth.

_ Now mama dance with me, I want my arms about you, the charms about you, will carry me through. Yes heaven, I’m in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak… _

“... _ and I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together dancin’ cheek to cheek.”  _ you sang softly and Sam twirled you around before bringing you back to him.

“Y’know you’re not as bad as you think you are.” you said, wrapping the arm not holding Sam’s large hand in yours around his waist. 

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, showing off his dimples. 

“Yup. You haven’t even stepped on my feet.” you smiled back.

“Well, give it time.” he continued to sway you both around a clear space in the library, not really believing he was actually doing this. But Sam was a sucker for you, and if you wanted to poorly dance around with him in the bunker to 50’s jazz music while Dean was asleep, then he would happily oblige. 

_ Oh I’d love to climb a mountain, and to reach the highest peak, but it doesn’t thrill me half as much as dancin’ cheek to cheek.  _

Ella’s clear soprano echoed through the vault ceiling now, and you hummed along. “More like cheek to chest, ‘cause you’re so freakin’ tall.” you mumbled into his shirt.

“I think you’re just short.” Sam teased. You were about to throw it back at him, but he let go of your hand and picked you up so that your faces were level.

“What are you doing?” you laughed at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking into his eyes. They twinkled with mischief, and he swatted you on the ass once before continuing to spin and sway with you in his arms. 

“Now we’re cheek to cheek.” he shrugged his shoulders just a little, smirking.

“I suppose your logic is sound.” you rested your face against his.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured.

“Well I won’t argue with it.” you chuckled and closed your eyes.

Sam squeezed a little tighter around your waist, closing his eyes as well and listening to the song play out. He really, really liked these peaceful Sunday mornings. 

_...I’m in heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together dancin’ cheek to cheek. _


End file.
